The Playboy of the West Indies

Mustapha Matura

• Publisher: Oberon Books
• Year: 2018
• Print ISBN: 9781840029246
• eBook ISBN: 9781786826466
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Media & Performing Arts
• Subtopic: Theatre

Based on J M Synge's Playboy of the Western World.
Playboy of the West Indies opened at the Oxford Playhouse in 1984 and subsequently toured the UK finishing at the Tricycle Theatre in London. It has also enjoyed huge success in the United States, most notably at The Court Theatre, Chicago; Arena Stage, Washington; New Jersey and Yale Rep. The Court Theatre Chicago's production was nominated for four Jefferson Awards. There was an extremely successful revival of the play at the Lincoln Center, New York in 1993. Mustapha also wrote the television adaptation, screened on BBC2 in 1985. The play was recently revived at the Tricycle Theatre and the Nottingham Playhouse.

ACT THREE

(The rum shop. Late afternoon. JIM enters, a little drunk.)

JIM: (Calls out.) Peggy? Anybody home?

(PHIL enters, in the same state.)

JIM: Yer see her?

PHIL: No. It’s Mikey we want. A sen Stanley wit de wheelbarrow to get ’im, I see him run drunk, but never one as bad as dat. An she is anoder one, locking away all de good rum. A man could die a thirst round here, she so busy running after dat new feller.

JIM: Yer can’t blame she. He bust de over an under lucky seven man! An trow de only hoop ter go round de doll, an dat en all! He enter fer de tug ’a war, de greasy pole, an de big boat race, an I leave ’im dancing wit two women. De man born lucky.

PHIL: Luck or not, he better watch out. He can’t open he mouth ter yawn without bragging how he chop he ole man an how de blade flashing in de sun an…

(PHIL brings bottle and glasses.)

JIM: Yer find some.

PHIL: Bound to. Yer ’no me. Horse ter water.

JIM: A man can’t hang by informing on himself, an he fadder rot by now, crapeaux smoke he pipe.

PHIL: But suppose, just suppose somebody go digging ditch right were he put de body, de right spot! It does happen yer ’no, an a jawbone come up followed by a piece a han wit fingers, wat dey go say in de police headquarters. Just suppose.

JIM: Suppose your nose was a door post hose. You doh ’no dem, man! Dem professor an ting go say it was some Carib or Awarak king, or one a Columbus boys get left behind. I hear dey have plenty bones in de Institute, wit piece a jug an plate.

(MAC enters and sits by door.)

PHIL: I hear if yer grind up bones and drink it, yer totie stan up all night. It give yer real strength.

MAC: (Getting up; PHIL and JIM turn.) I never drink no bones, but I stronger dan both a all yer. Look at dat. (Showing them his wound.) All yer tink all yer could walk round wit a chop like dat from a cutlass, a sharp cutlass.

(PHIL and JIM cautiously approach and examine head.)

PHIL: Lord, who chop yer man?

MAN: Me own son chop me! Yer could believe dat? Me own son a tell yer!

JIM: Well yer live an learn.

PHIL: How he do it, Pardner?

MAC: Give me a eights an a go tell yer. Yer ’no how much road I walk, getting place ter sleep an food ter eat, just fer telling people de true story?

(MAMA BENIN appears at the door.)

(PHIL goes for glass.)

PHIL: Mama Benin come in ner an hear dis.

MAMA BENIN: (To MAC.) Is you again. Wha happen, yer catch cramp? After I go ter all de trouble ter give you de right directions?

MAC: I see de bus take off, an me troat feel a bit dry an yer right, a catch a cramp in dis one, no it was dis one.

MAMA BENIN: Yer sure it wasn’t in yer mouth.

MAC: Nar, Man, dat alright, so a say ter meself le ’im go long, wit de Devil for company, an a turn back.

(MAMA BENIN pours another drink for MAC.)

MAMA BENIN: Yer right. Rest yer weary bones, an fire another one. Yer must be dead out tramping round de bush. (She drinks from bottle.) One fer de road.

(They drink.)

MAC: (Goes to look around.) Tank yer. Dey is a nice place all yer have here man.

MAMA BENIN: (To men.) All yer ’no who dat is.

MEN: No.

MAMA BENIN: He’s a mad man who bang he own head on de mile post. I meet him dis morning telling people he doh like mile post, dey is de wrong shape. Yer could beat dat.

PHIL: Wat shape he want dem ter be?

MAMA BENIN: Shut up an listen ner, before he come back. He hear de story bout de young feller, wat he name, Ken. Yes, Ken. He hear bout Ken, so yer ’no wha, he say Ken is he son an Ken chop ’im. Yer ever hear madness like dat? Dat is true, true madness!

PHIL: He “gone.” He see Ken yet?

MAMA BENIN: No, an you doh mention notting ’bout ’im or else you go be witness if any killing go on. All yer doh say notting. I go Mamaguy ’im an we go see how mad he really is.

JIM: Yes.

PHIL: Dere but fer de grace a God go us, eh.

MAMA BENIN: (Loud.) So how yer feeling now old feller? De rum strengthen yer? Yer like de place?

MAC: Yes, a was saying ter meself how nice it is.

MAMA BENIN: Yer does talk ter yer self a lot den. I does do it too.

MAC: Yes. I en feeling so bad, now, tank God, considering de way a is. Wen I tinka how I look after dat boy, from de minute he born, help ’im wit he home work, he was a real dunce yer ’no, didn’t even know wat one an one was.

JIM: Two.

PHIL: Facts, facts.

(During the course of this speech MAMA BENIN is smiling at PHIL and JIM, sneering at MAC.)

MAMA BENIN: Ter hear you talking so quiet, nobody would believe you was de same feller who pass terday, yer sure.

MAC: Is me a tell yer, who yer tink a is? Is me, ole man who see life come an go, who see hunger an poverty an en want ter see it again. An ter have yer only hope in life go ter de dogs, after you spend yer hole life saving up yer blessing fer him.

PHIL: (To JIM.) He mad? He en mad! (To MAMA BENIN.) Ask ’im wat he son was like.

MAMA BENIN: Dis son a yours, de one dat hit yer, he was handsome an good at high jump an long jump, beating everybody?

MAC: Yer en hear me say he was bazódee? He didn’t ’no he left foot from he right.

MAMA BENIN: Fire another, ner.

MAC: Tanks. (Takes bottle, pours.)

MAMA BENIN: (To PHIL and JIM.) Is de rum talking.

(A cheer co...

Table of contents

• Front Cover
• Half-title Page
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Contents
• Act One
• Act Two
• Act Three